Nightmare in the Heffley House
by PrizJefra
Summary: Rodrick's new girlfriend is a super-freak but not in a good way and Greg and Rowley will do anything to get her out of the house. Join Greg and his buddy for a bit of fun in the classic Diary of a Wimpy Kid style!
1. The Nutjob

Today the unthinkable has been realized.

It happened as I was walking from the bathroom with a toothbrush sticking out of my mouth and a towel around my waist humming _Dancing Queen _when I bumped into Rodrick who looked more pissed at the world than usual. I decided to play it safe and avoided all forms of eye contact, which proved effective because, without even so much as a grumble, he pushed passed me into his room.

"Mom!" I said, trudging into the kitchen, "What's wrong with Rodrick?"

Mom seemed overly-happy. She was skipping around the kitchen wearing her flowery apron: dusting, shining, and bleachifying. The house smelled like a cleaning solvent dump.

"Oh, Honey!" She pranced by and gave me a swift kiss on the head which I wiped away with the back of my hand. And then she said it, those eight scary words.

"Rodrick's girlfriend is coming over for dinner tonight!"

I don't know who was screaming louder. Me because, -well, isn't it obvious?-or Mom because I had just dropped my cereal bowl on the floor.

6:00pm

So now we're all standing here like dopes waiting for the star of the show. Rodrick looked pale and sweaty for some reason, but every time I tried to nag at him Mom would go BERSIRK and tell me to behave myself for "the wonderful guest of the evening." I think Mom was just glad that, as far as we knew, _this _one had no piercings, criminal records, or newspaper-worthy incidents to be spoken of (unlike the previous few that Rodrick had brought home.) Speaking of which, Rodrick hasn't spoken a word about her all day. He just keeps going into the bathroom and each time coming back smelling stronger and stronger of "Dad's" stale old cologne that I think has been sitting in the medicine cabinet since before we moved in.

The doorbell rang and Mom squealed.

"She's here! She's here! Everybody get in your positions!"

Mom fluttered past wearing her (puke) yellow Macy's frock and a crazy-wild smile. Dad and I shared a wary look that communicated all too clearly the classic if-you-bail-me-out-I'll-bail-you-out. I knew that Dad wanted nothing more than to be in the basement working on and rebuilding his Civil War battle field which, for the record, I _did not_ crash into as I was on my way out after being spooked by super huge vampire rat that I swear was eyeing me up.

"Oh, hello sweetie, nice to meet you at last!"

"Oh! Mrs. Heffley! Your smile is as bright as the moon."

"Oh! How lovely!"

Mom's overly sweet voice wafted all the way into the kitchen. As usual, I always had the honors to sit next to little Prince Manny at the table and let me just make it clear that this little monster sits on the potty while eating at the dinner table. Lame, I know.

"Hi, Bubby!"

Rodrick rushed in just as dad was sitting down, looking paler than ever. He leaned over and grabbed my shirt. "I will pay you 600 Mom Bucks if you get her out of the house," he hissed.

I shook my head. I must not have heard him right.

"Who, Mom? We tried that before remember? Didn't you end up staying at Granpa's house for-"

"No, not Mom, you dope!" He hissed as footsteps came closer and closer, "_Her_, my 'girlfriend.' She's been following me around for _weeks_ talking random girl-gibberish. I can't make heads or tails of it! And I don't even like her!"

I looked at him with a quizzical expression. Had the speakers in the garage blown his brains out? The thought made me snicker.

"Well….what's her name?"

"Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella!"

Mom swept in with a flourish with a girl by her side. The girl smiled and did one of those girl-things where they bend their knees weird and flutter their dresses. "How _nice_ to meetchoo all!"

She swept past Dad and gave him a bow, "Mr. Heffley! Your aura is strong and solid. You must be a good, good provider to the family, yes. Oh, and is this little Prince Manny? The most colorful energy he has. As bright as the painted toys that he plays with, I see vibrance in his future. Vibrance and laughter," She swept over to Manny's chair and began covering his head with kisses. My mouth fell open and I looked at Rodrick. He looked back and shrugged. By now Mom had lost her cheery smile and now looked as if a train had come screaming into the kitchen. Dad looked completely confused. Manny just looked as if he wanted to get this over with so that he could dive into his cereal and start making a mess.

"Oh, Rodrick, is this your brother?" I screamed as the woman floated over towards me as creepily as a ghost. "Gregory! Dear, dear Gregory!" The woman standing above me was extraordinarily pretty. She had a wide, grinning face with red-painted lips and clear, brown eyes. She was a bit taller than mom and her wavy brown hair fell almost to her hips and she had the most delightful figure. I could see why Rodrick would fall for her. But she still looked crazy! She was wearing about five multi-color dresses at once under something that I think they call a 'corset' and had grown her slime-green nails to a creepy length. She pinched my cheeks with those creepy nails and I screamed again. "Oh, Gregory. I see struggles and hardships in your ever-so-present mind. School, maybe? The best spell for a rainy day in the life of a boy is honey and kitty claws, I think. One jarful ought to do the trick and all of your troubles with…..disappear!" She flicked her wrist and sent Mom's prize vase skittering. If Rodrick could have sunken any deeper in his chair he'd have been in you-know-where.

"Oops," she batted her eyelashes at the shattered glass at her feet. "Um, dinner, Mrs. Heffley?"

Mom's eye twitched. "Yes….off course…"

Sometime during dinner, maybe around the time that Amedea-Orabella-What's her-name was talking about the impact of the color ruby-red on a person's energy, I was able to slip away. The first thing that I did was run to the family telephone and dial Rowley's number.

"Mr. Jefferson, uh-huh, I know I'm not supposed to call between the hours of 12am and 12pm but this is an emergency! I need to talk to Rowley. Yeah. Okay."

I waited anxiously as Mr. Jefferson went to give Rowley the phone, listening as I did so to Miss Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella spew some nonsense about the moon.

"Hullo?"

"Hey, Rowley it's me. This is an emergency-"

"Aw, I told you I don't have anymore backup underoos…."

"What? No! Rowley, listen to me. Rodrick has a new girlfriend and right now she is in the house and she is CRAZY! I think it's time we put Operation ThreeTwo into effect."

There was a pause. "Wait, wasn't that that operation we made up in third grade to make Fregley-"

"Doesn't matter. Just get over here asap."

This was going to be one heck of a night.


	2. The Plan

Okay. Here's the plan we made up to get Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella out of the house.

Put a FedEx box inside one of Manny's toy wagons and place it behind Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella's chair (my idea.)

Gear up Twisted Wizard style (Rowley's Idea.)

Rig up old Christmas lights outside of living room windows (my idea.)

While Rowley switches the lights on and off from inside the basement (on my queue) I go to the dining room and yell "The police are outside of our house!" (my idea.)

The family, seeing the flashing lights, will rush to the window thinking that the cops are surrounding the house (my idea.)

During the diversion , I push Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella into the FedEx box and quickly zip it into the basement where I'm not sure what will happen, but I expect it will go something along the lines of intense interrogation on why she would date someone as _Rodrickish_ as Rodrick. (my idea.)

Go to bed (Rowley's idea.)

It would have worked except for that fact that this is my life and nothing seems to work in _that_ department.

Mom seemed surprised when she saw Rowley walk through the door with all of his sleepover stuff. Dad just looked like he wanted to throw Mom's prized salad bowl out of the window…again.

"Oh! Rowley! How nice! What a….. pleasant…..surprise!" Mom put on her oh-lord-will-this-night-ever-end? smile.

"Yeah! Always nice to see you, kid. Stay out of the basement." That was Dad with his in-about-three-seconds-I'm-going-to-bolt-out-of-here frown/grimace/smile/Rowleygetthehellout.

"Off course, sir."

"Oh, lord, another nut job," I heard Rodrick hiss under his breath.

"And who's the first nut job, my full dusty-moonickins?" asked Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella, looking up from her pasta.

"Er….." Rodrick's eyes briefly flickered to his girlfriend and then lingered on Mom. Mom glowered back.

"And what did you mean by that eye-flicker, young man?"

"I, er, I…..what?"

"You saw him, didn't you honey?" Mom turned to Dad who looked panicked, "He said 'nutjob' which, let me remind you, young man, is not a very accurate or appropriate term, and then he glanced at the only two females in the house!"

Dad put on his parenting face. "Rodrick! What did I tell you about, um, glancing at people?"

"…..what?"

"Bubby!"

"Ooh, auroras are running high in this house hold! Quick! Everybody bottle it up!" Amedea-Blah-Blah-Bella began waving her spoons around in the air, humming a chant that I swear I once heard a witch hum in a Twisted Wizards videogame.

"Buuuuuuuuuu-byyyyyyyyyy is a plooooooooooo-pyyyyyy!" Manny said.

"Manny!"

"What? I'm owny thwee!"

"Rowley! Why don't you sit down?"

The room quickly silenced and I hurriedly pulled out a chair for Rowley, who looked shocked. Sometimes he forgets how wild it can get at the Heffley dinner table.

"Oh, yeah, Mom? Rowley's staying the night over tonight." I said with my mouth full.

"Oh, really? And do Rowley's parents know?" Mom's eyes flickered over at Dad. I think they both remembered the Ninja-Sneak-Out-Incident.

"Yeah."

" Rowley?" Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella leaned over the table and gave her prettiest grin which, trust me, was really pretty. "My name is Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella, Rodrick's prospective mate-"

Rodrick sputtered at the words 'prospective mate' and Manny smiled and did just the same.

"-Anyway, I'll be staying here overnight, too. We can get to know each other! Ooh-does the color purple anything to you?"

Rowley shook his head, dumbfounded without the founded.

"Well purple is the color of your aura. A quaint color, purple is, easy going and attractive, but it has an underlying of something dark and mischievous, power contained in a jar. I sensed that about you the first minute you walked in."

"Oh my god, shut up." Rodrick said into his hands.

"Dear, I must have misheard you. Did you say you were spending the night?"

Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella turned and grinned at Mom, kicking her legs out underneath the table and accidently catching my shin. "Yes, if you don't mind, I would like to spend the night in the warm, dark cave that is my Rodrick."

"Oh my God, shut up," that was Dad.

Mom glared at Dad, "Oh, that's fine, I suppose, you can stay. Well," she said, after a pause, "How about desert, everyone? I made pumpkin pie!"

Everyone at the table cheered and I quickly tried to shovel mashed potatoes, roast beef, and string beans into my pocket. But it was too late, Mom saw.

"All except you, Greg." Mom said as she and Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella cleared away the dishes, "Finish up your food because if you do, _maybe_ you'll be able to fit into those underoos Uncle Greg gave you for Christmas!"

"Oh my god shut up," I mumbled. I quickly shoveled cold potatoes into my mouth before Mom could yell at me.

That left Me, Manny, Dad, Rodrick, and Rowley alone in the kitchen. Dad turned to Rodrick and began drilling him on Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella's past while Manny tried out his horrible new song called "Oh my god shut-up! Oh my God shuuuuuuuuuuuuuut-uuuuuuuuup!"

I turned to Rowley.

"I really think it's time we put Operation ThreeTwo into affect."


	3. The Why I Don't Like Doing Stuff

**Gosh, I'm so sorry. I've been wanting to get this chapter to you guys for so long, but at my house the internet is slower than a turtle downloading a movie off of iTunes on a Wednesday after noon after waking up from a long nap which was never fully finished because he found out that Family Guy didn't come on yet when it was supposed t-and you know what? Just forget it. Enjoy the chapter! I really had fun with it.**

"But what about the pumpkin pie?" Rowley asked as we raced up the stairs. I sighed.

"Rowley, we don't have time for pumpkin pie! Did Orville and Wilbur Wright stop to enjoy a piece of pumpkin pie while test driving their plane? No. They would have crashed. Did Alexander the Great accept a piece of pumpkin pie from his friend's mom while fighting those people? No. He would have been killed. Was Abraham Lincoln thinking about pumpkin pie while he was slaying zombies? No. The zombies would have devoured him faster if he tasted like homemade pumpkin pie. Point is, Rodrick's new girlfriend is a menace and we need to get her out of the house pronto."

"I don't know," Rowley stopped at the top of the stairs to catch his breath. "She doesn't seem like much of a menace to me. I actually think she's kinda cute." I stopped in my tracks and turned to him in super-awesome slow motion. "Never...say that...again." I hissed, a move that I learned from Rodrick. Rowley looked confused. "What? Never say that she's kinda cute?"

"Yes! And-see! You just said it again."

"Said what? Said that she's kinda cute?"

"Rowley!"

"What? Oh, sorry. Well can I say that she looks pretty?

I sighed in disgust. "Just help me look for Twisted Wizard stuff, okay?" Rowley shrugged and we began sifting through boxes of dirty clothes in my closet. After about three minutes I realized that I actually was not the owner of various super-cool wizard clothing like I thought I was and it turns out the best we could do was one of Mom's tan maternity dresses, a cowboy hat, tube socks, bandannas, present wrapping tape, and one of Dad's civil war costumes. "Here, you wear these," I handed Rowley the dress, gift wrapping paper, and one of the tube socks.

"I'm not wearing this! I'll look like a girl!"

"Well...some women are attracted to men who look like girls." I said, putting on the cowboy hat. I did look pretty good if I do say so myself.

"What? That doesn't even make any sense!" Rowley said, still refusing to put on the costume.

"It's something that I once heard Dad say to Rodrick when Mom's eyeliner wouldn't come off after one of his shows. Now shut up and help me tie this tube sock...there. We look good. Now we can go."

"I look like Pocahontas on drugs," I heard Rowley mumble after me.

We snuck into Manny's room and got one of his toy wagons, big enough to fit an aquarium in, not to mention a full grown woman. Next we went into Dad's office and got one of his FedEx boxes that he intended to ship off to his boss in a few days. Okay, I admit we had to dump some, actually, allot of papers out in order to get it…but they didn't look _too _important. The way I see it, Dad will be thanking me for getting Amedea Arabella Bonfillia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella out of the house. Plus, maybe the coffee that we accidentally knocked off of his desk onto the papers will have dissolved by the time he notices that anything has happened. "Okay, here's the plan," I said, "You go down and place this behind Amedea Butterfly Confilia Gabriela Donna's chair without getting caught while I go out and rig up the Christmas lights. Got it?" Rowley nodded. "Okay let's go."

Unfortunately right as we stepped foot on the landing we heard footsteps coming up. "Quick, hide the wagon caravan thing." I wheeled the wagon towards Rowley. "Where am I supposed to hide a big hulking thing like that?" He wheeled it back at me. Panicking, I threw myself over the wagon right as the footsteps reached the landing.

"What are you dorkuses doing?"

"Oh, hi, Rodrick. Me and Rowley were just, um, looking for..."

"Halloween costumes!" I looked at Rowley and he shrugged with a what?-it's-the-best-I-could-do look.

"Oh yeah? In April? I think the carnival caravan left a few months ago, ya freaks." Rodrick crossed his arms, and stared at us with still-bearing-faint-traces-of-black-eyeliner-eyes-which-made-him-look-like-a-sleepy-vampire-wait-now-that-I-think-about-it-maybe-that-was-the-look-that-he-was-going-for-hm,-looks-cool-maybe-I-should-learn-to-do-that-look.

"Well, you can never start looking too early," I told him. "Anyway, we're trying to help you." Honestly, sometimes that boy is _clueless_. Rodrick laughed.

"Changed my mind, squirt. I don't need your help. You or Pocahontas on drugs over there."

"Oh, yeah? We'll see. By the end of the night you'll…...hey…..wait-what are you doing up here? Aren't you s'posta be downstairs with your _girlfriend_?"

Rodrick suddenly became very preoccupied with the Löded Diper tattoo on his arm. "I, uh, you know, just wanted to, uh, use the restroom."

"Again? You're hiding from her, aren't you? That's the seventh time you went to the bathroom tonight!"

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down," he said, throwing a worried glanced at the dining room, "My _body _is on a _schedule_."

"I'm so sure. Mark my words, Rodrick Heffley, by the time this night is through you'll be-"

But what he'll be, we never found out, because right at that moment, while doing a super cool Matrix backwards-walk move that was supposed to leave a lasting solemn impact, I tripped and fell headlong down the stairs.

8:00pm

Let me tell you something, whoever invented these Christmas lights did not intend for them to be strung up. First of all it was an absolute HASSLE to get them out of the box. It took me like 15 minutes to get them all untangled (I must admit I had to use teeth, fingernails, scissors, and occasionally my toenails) and by the time I was done I was actually contemplating just laying down there in the leaves and taking a nice, long nap but Greg Heffley is (not) a quitter. So that's why I'm out here in the freezing cold balancing on one of Dad's old, wobbly ladders trying to get these Christmas lights hooked to the roof, all the while praying that Rowley wouldn't get caught during his mission.

"Rowley!" I heard Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella's voice waft through the kitchen window, "What are you doing underneath the table? And what's that wagon for, berry? Are you looking for tricky spirits? Because I can help you with that. You know, I actually befriended a tricky spirit once..."

See? This is why I don't pray.

"Yes, Rowley, dear, why are you underneath the table? And where's Greg?" That was Mom.

"Oh, um, I was just picking up my, uh, rat trap!" Rowley bent down and picked up a dusty old rat trap from underneath the table, "And as for Greg he's, um, he's in the bathroom."

"I thought Rodrick was in the bathroom," I watched through the window as Dad got a spooked look on his face.

"No matter then," Mom said, "Come finish your pie."

"Oh, you bet!"

Where was the wagon? I didn't see it in the kitchen and it definitely wasn't behind Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella's chair where it was supposed to be so I decided I'd just deal with it later after I hooked up the stupid lights.

So after twenty minutes of tying, untying, moving, misplacing, finding, accidently breaking, abandoning, kicking, screaming at, envisioning, being inspired by, rethinking, replacing, retying, being unsatisfied by, and finally finishing up with the Christmas lights I trudged inside: cold, tired, and drenched by the sudden surprise rainstorm but still determined.

"Rowley," I hissed from the living room. The kid was sitting at the table, chatting it up with Rodrick's new girlfriend over a second slice of warm pumpkin pie, as happy as a schoolgirl. "ROWLEY!" I hissed louder.

"Sorry, be right back, _mon cherie_," he said. Amedea giggled. "_D'accord, mon amour. Mais vite_!"

"_Mon sherie_?" I asked as he plopped down behind the couch besides me with a weird (dare I say...lovesick?) grin.

"Who knew? She speaks French and is a wiz at Twisted Wizard!"

"That explains," I mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look, now's the big moment. I rigged up the Christmas lights outside. You go down to the basement and, at my signal, start switching them on and off from the electrical outlet in there. As soon as you do I'll go in the dining room and distract the family. Got it?"

"Got it," we nodded at each other all ninja-like and he was off.

I moved behind a big potted vase in the living room and watched the scene like a hound watches a rabbit. Mom, Dad, and Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella were sitting at the table, talking. Manny had been put to bed and Rodrick still hadn't come back from the restroom. Okay, time to get this operation started in five…..

Four….

Three…

Two…

One…

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! MOM! DAD! GIRL WHOSE NAME I CAN NEVER GET RIGHT! THE POLICE! THE POLICE ARE SURROUNDING THE HOUSE! GO! GO! LOOK AT THOSE FLASHING LIGHTS! OH MY GOD!"

There was a silence as I stood at the center of attention. I hesitantly peeked at the window.

The lights weren't going off.

"Is that my Civil War costume?" Dad asked with a strange look on his face.

"No," I said through gritted teeth. _Come on, Rowley_.

Mom got up and looked through the kitchen window. "There is no one there, dear," she said, "And it was absolutely reckless of you to go into your father's closet and steal his Civil War costume! What is up with you? Why are you acting up tonight?"

"Must be the False Domains," Amedea said pensively, nodding at her pumpkin pie. Mom shook her head.

"No, Mom, I, look, this is all a big mistake…"

"Well, I don't care what it is, young man. Take your dishes and tell Rowley that you two have to go straight to bed. We'll talk about this in the morning. Amedea, dear, Frank and I are going to bed. I'll wake you up in the morning. Greg, don't forget those dishes."

Mom turned and went up the stairs and Dad, with a fatigued smile, said _goodnight _and trudged after her. Grumbling, I took my dishes into the kitchen and began to wash them when the most curious sound entered my ears.

"_If there was ever a white night_

_In which I was unfaithful to you_

_Then my skin most have been waxen_

_And my lips must have been blue_

_Because truthfully I'd rather_

_Be dead than not devoted_

_Uncensored, I pledge to you_

_Untainted or sugar-coated_

_Thank you for my love, my life, my_ Rrrrrodrick_  
>Thank you for making him such a pleasant and sexy sight<em>

_Thank you for the pink that borders his lips_

_And thanks for what we're about to do tonight *girlish giggle*_"

I followed the nice singing into the dining room where Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella was sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling something on her arm with a black pen.

"Oh, Gregory! Come, sit." She smiled at me and pat the seat next to her.

"Oh, no thanks. I'm good right here." No matter how pretty she was, I would not sit next to a girl who just called my brother a '_pleasant and sexy sight._' "Um, what were you singing?" I asked politely.

"Oh, sometimes I just get these sudden bursts of inspiration for a song or poem devoted to the universe. It happens at the most random moments and I always like to record them for a book that I intend to write in the future," she waved her arm at me. "Do you believe in the power of the universe, Gregory?"

"Uh, no,"

She got up and began walking towards me, creepily.

"Well…..you should," she said, so quietly that I almost missed it. I must have been seeing things, but for some reason it looked like the house had darkened and the shadows under her eyes had become more prominent. "You must not fall for the False Domain, the fake religion. The universe created you, it gave to you, and it fed you with its breath, giving you the swirling mass of aura that is your energy today," she got right up in my face and blew across my face. "Believe, Gregory," she whispered, her eyes unblinking beneath blue eye shadow. She ran a claw across my cheek, "Believe in the universe. It is your mother. It is your father and tonight, I shall take your brother and make him believe, whether he likes it or not. Believe, Gregory. Believe."

…ooooooooo-kay….….

There was an awkward silence as her eyes turned back to their normal color. Normal being green, not orange.

"Um, that's great!" I gave her a thumbs up and begin to slowly walk backwards out of the kitchen as her eyes began to turn purple. "I, uh, as for the whole Universe thing I…uh….I'll have to ask my Mom about that. Um, cuz if I go to church and start talking about, uh, fake domains and stuff I might lose some points from up above, you know?" I laughed awkwardly as she began to advance on me again. She giggled lightheartedly.

"Oh, I didn't mean to scare you, Greg. I just, oh, sometimes I get carried away by my whole universe beliefs and all, ha ha ha….."

"Ha ha, right," this was beginning to creep me out. There was no one downstairs to protect me if she started putting me under some voodoo chant curse and my back was coming up against the living room wall. She kept advancing.

"You know, Gregory, I think we'd make a good team. You, me, devoted Universees. Your brother's fine but, his aura's not as…..pretty as yours. Won't you let me…..examine it closer?" She reached out towards me again.

"I, uh, I-!"

We both screamed as an explosion of color burst outside of the living room window. The Christmas lights!

I stumbled and tripped, falling into a misplaced Fedex box near the couch. Amedea tripped and fell on top of me, smothering me with her thick, black hair.

And, of all times, Rodrick just _had_ to walk out of the bathroom right at that moment.

"Hey, guys, what's up? Is dinner over yeeeeeeee-OH MY GOD! MOM! MOM! GREGORY'S DOING FREAKY STUFF TO MY GIRLFRIEND!"

"Oh my goodness, Rodrick, shut u-….the bathroom window, you left it open again," came Mom's sleepy reply, "And go to bed! Now, boys!"

Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella got up and dusted herself off. "Yes, Rodrick, come, we must….._got to bed_." She took a shocked Rodrick's arm and led him down the stairs into the basement.

"I'll get you for this, punk!" he sneered as he was led into his room, and then, "GET OUTTA MY ROOM, POCAHONTAS!"

Rowley trudged out of the basement looking cheerful. "So, did it work?" he asked as we walked up the stairs to my room.

"No! Not at all! Why didn't you turn on the lights at my signa-oh." I flushed when I remembered that I had forgotten to do the signal.

"You forgot the signal," Rowley said as we changed into our pyjamas in my room, "I waited and waited for some type of signal, but got none. And then I heard you scream and I thought that might be the signal so I started switching on the lights and then….well…..Rodrick came and kicked me out and, well, here we are."

"But Rowley," I said, "Why didn't you start switching on the lights when you heard me yelling about the police?" Rowley avoided my eyes.

"Wellllllll…Rodrick had these really cool Joshie CDs in his room-who knew? And , well, I kinda got distracted."

I don't know which bothered me more: Rowley blowing off our whole mission because of Joshie Cds or the fact that Rodrick has them.

"Well, whatever, we'll just have to come up with some other plan." I yawned as I curled into my sleeping bag next to Rowley. "Rowley? Why do all of our plans never work?" I murmured.

"I dunno, Greg. Maybe it's because we're getting old."

"Yeah…wait-what? Rowley, we're only in middle school!"

"Yeah, but what with all of these crazy thing's we've done? We must have aged ten extra years!"

"Yeah…." I said, looking up at the ceiling. For once, we actually agreed on something.

That night I fell asleep with a nagging thought that I was forgetting something, something crucial, something that had to do with Rodrick which is what made it crucial. Oh well.


	4. The Crazy Night

**Okay, guys, just to let you know, this chapter is rated T for SEXUAL REFERENCES. If you're uncomfortable with stuff like this then you don't have to read it: it's not necessary to the general story idea, it's just a bit of fun. What can I say? I couldn't help myself! I wanted Rodrick to get some-even if it wasn't much.**

XoXoXoXo

"RODRICK'S GOING TO HAVE HIS SOUL SUCKED OUT BY A VAMPIRE!" I bolted up, gasping.

"Greg," Rowley mumbled from somewhere in the darkness, "Vampire's don't suck out souls, they suck out auroric energiessssss…ZzZzZ….."

"Rowley! Rowley! Wake up!" I shook his sleeping bag, "Rodrick may be in dire peril!" I've always wanted to use the words 'dire' and 'peril.'

"Well, whatever it is that's going to happen to him, he probably deserves i….." the words died on his lips when he saw the look on my face, "Greg, it's 10 pm! Can't this wait till morning?"

"No, Rowley, listen," I flicked on the light, "A few hours ago when Amedea Butterfly Donsila-"

"There's no 'butterfly' in her name," Rowley said with an angry expression.

"Okay, whatever, when Amedea Ar-"

"I'm just saying. You should probably get it right for future reference."

"Okay, fine. I will. Point is-"

"Do you even know her name?"

"ROWLEY!"

"What? Joshie says that it's very important that you call a person by none other than their given name."

"Wha-…oooookay, wise guy, what's her real name?"

"Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella Miz Tony de Cantenera-"

"_Miz Tony de Cantenera_?"

"Middle name,"

"Okay, anyway, a few hours ago Amedea….Arabella…Bonfila….Cosma Donna-ah forget. A few hours ago when she was trying to recruit me into her little universe cult thing she said that tonight she would take Rodrick and make him a believer!"

"So? What's wrong with that?"

" '_Tonight, I shall take your brother and make him believe, whether he likes it or not.'_ That's what she said! Doesn't that sound like something an evil, twisted maniac would say?"

"Wellllllll…"

"Rowley! Tonight Amedea is gonna take my brother and force him to do something awful, something that might change his life forever, like, force him to give up his spleen or drink blood from his neck and it could be happening _right now _under our noses. I mean, yeah, he's a big jerk but he's still my brother and sometimes it is the job of the younger brother to make the smart, charismatic, sexy, loyal, life-saving decisions for the older bother." I paused and there was an awkward silence.

"Brothers," Rowley shook his head, "I just don't understand 'em."

"Come on," I said, yanking on my shirt.

We crept down the staircase, keeping an eye out for Mom, Dad and, um, Shel Silverstein who, in my defense, would have been just as bad. It was dark in the house and spooky and Manny's Toy Story flashlight wasn't working so well either. We stopped at the basement door and listened.

"Do you hear anything?" I whispered.

"No…..wait, I do. It's like a faint….smacking sound….like someone's smacking their lips…."

"Yeah, I hear it, too," I gasped, "Rowley, what if Rodrick's having his blood sucked out right now? We gotta go save him-"

"No, Greg, look. Don't you think it would be dangerous if we just burst in unarmed and without weapons? She might turn on us!"

"Right," I said, nodding, "stealth attack. But how?" Rowley thought a minute.

"Basement window?"

"I was gonna say that!"

We both crept outside and went around the back of the house, startling three cats, spooking one dog, falling over two trash cans, setting of one car alarm off, scaring the dentures of off one old lady (what was she doing in our backyard?) almost getting hit by a motorcycle twice, making a little girl scream, and eventually reaching the basement window.

"Wow," I said, "we did well."

"Yep,"

"Oh, and in case anybody asks, it was my idea to go to the basement window, not yours. Got it?"

Rowley nodded and we pulled ourselves up to the basement window. I turned to him one more time. "Now, Rowley, what we're about to witness might be extremely gory and graphic, but I'm gonna have to ask you not to scream and to stand by my side at all times. We may lose many innocent lives tonight in this scary charade, maybe even ours, but that cannot be helped. Remember, soldier, it is all for the greater good of mankind."

"I thought we were just doing this for Rodrick…."

"Shut up and gimme a boost."

Rowley gave a shrug and bent down. I placed my foot on his shoulder and lifted myself up onto the ledge. I peeked in the window.

"Oh…my…god,"

"What? What is it? Greg! Greg, come on, pull me up! Greg!"

"Oh…..my…god," I said again.

Rowley pulled himself up by my leg, almost sending me toppling down, and stood on his tiptoes next to me.

"Oh my god," he said, "That is terribly scary and graphic."

There was Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella Miz Tony de Cantenera _kissing_ my brother. _Kissing! KISSING! __**KISSING!**_ And not just an old-lady kiss like Gramma does, but a full-out make out session like I once saw on one of Mom's Romance films (before she discovered my hiding place and told me to get out.)

"That's nasty," Rowley whispered beside me, "I mean, I knew kissing was gross, but not _that _gross…"

"Yeah…." I said, watching as Rodrick began to turn tomato red. We continued to watch for a minute in a kinda trance.

"W-wait, stop," I said, snapping out of it, "This should not be happening. Rowley, don't you see? This is the preface, the fake treaty before the attack. She's only tricking him. Soon she's gonna…..chomp down….on his neck and start…..sucking out his…..auroric type….energy….thing…."

"Uh-huh….."

But, as bad as sounds, we made no move to save Rodrick from his impending doom (I've always wanted to say 'impending doom!') and instead just watched in awkward silence. Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella had got up, went to the radio, and turned on something that I think is called DNA by The Kills, or the Kills by DNA, or something else equally Rodrick-ish. She began to dance and shake her hips.

"Rodrick….Heffley," I heard her say. She closed her eyes and whipped her hair a lot, "Tell me something. Do you believe in the power of the universe?"

"No," Rodrick said with a faltering grin, "Why don't you _make me_ believe?"

Amedea giggled, "Oh, I will, Heffley, _I will_."

"Rowley, this is it! Do something!" I hissed, "She's about to…attack him or something with a weapon!"

Amedea giggled again, still dancing, and took off her clothes until she was standing in nothing but her underwear.

"Huh," Rowley said, "Maybe the weapon's in her bra?"

"Oh….my…..god…"

"Oh….." Rowley said, "I guess it's not in her bra."

"Rodrick Heffley, _now _do you believe?" she smiled and did a twirl, her long hair whipping her bare shoulders.

Rodrick whistled and leaned dangerously far back on in his pillows, "Wow, uh, why don't you, uh..._convince_ me some more?"

Amedea laughed and pointed at his pants, "Lose 'em."

Rodrick's expression changed, "What? My pants?"

"Off course, silly."

"Oh, well, heh heh, um, why don't we wait a minute on that?"

"No. That's how it works during sex. One person takes off their clothes and the other person has too take off their clothes, too."

"Well, maybe I don't _feel like_ taking off my clothes right now."

"Rodrick," Amedea's eyes changed color and the house darkened again. She put her hands on her hips, "Take off your pants or I will take them off for you."

"Amedea, how about we not…."

Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella growled and lunged at him, whipping off his jeans in one swift movement. Then she did something that made all three of us gasp, Rodrick the loudest.

"She bit him!" I yelled.

"In the crotch!" Rowley yelled.

"Oh my god!"

Rodrick's face went extremely red and he squished his eyes shut. He began to sputter.

"Don't worry, Rodrick, I'll save you!'

"Greg, no!"

I flipped the latch on the window and wiggled it open. I jumped inside (actually, more like tumbled inside) and pointed at Rodrick's girlfriend.

"Ah-ha, you evil she-fiend! I have come to vanquish you with this….." I reached down and picked up the first thing that I saw "…dusty antique floor lamp that I don't know why is in my brother's room!"

Rowley tumbled through the window after me and quickly picked up an empty Seven Eleven and pointed it at her threateningly

"Greg? Rowley? I don't understand? Have you come to join the cult of devoted Universees? Cuz it's about time!" Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella sat down on the edge of Rodrick's bed and calmly crossed her arms over her bare chest, kicking out her…...long….pretty….legs.

"No, thanks," Rowley said, "We were actually just coming to save Rodrick from your terrible, evil wrath. It was Greg's idea, Miss _Amedea __Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella Miz Tony de Cantenera._" Amedea tossed back her head and laughed.

"Nice! You're one of the few people who can actually get my name right!" Regrettably, Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella put on one of Rodricks' Loded Diper tee-shirts, "And you're mistaken. I would never hurt Rodrick."

"Oh yeah? Then why did you bite him in the, um…_inappropriate_ _to say_ area? Huh? Explain that!" I said, thrusting the lamp in her face.

"Okay, Greg, seriously? GET OUT!" Rodrick jumped up and hauled Rowley and I to the door by the back of our shirts, struggling as he did so, to pull on his pants (I didn't have the heart to tell him that they were upside down.)

"Oh, Rodrick, love, calm down. Their just being curious little boys," Amedea smiled and crossed her legs on the bed, "Do you know much about sex, Greg? Would you like me to explain it to you?"

"Oh, you bet!"

"SHUT UP, YOU!" Rodrick shoved me and Rowley out of the door and shut it behind him, looking madder than I've ever seen him in my life (which, trust me, is very mad.) "Never, ever repeat what you saw to Mom, got it? Don't tell anybody. Not Mom, not Dad, not Manny, not the freaky kids at your school, not even your diary, Greg. You two just ruined a perfect night for me, don't make it worse by going and telling everybody about because if you do I will kill you. Literally, kill you."

"But, Rodrick, you didn't look very happy back there. I just thou-"

"Doesn't matter, chump. Go to bed. Do everybody a favor and don't wake up. Ever." He flicked my head and walked back in his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Interruptions, interruptions, interruptions," I heard Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella sing through the door.

"Sorry," was Rodrick's mumbled reply.

"I'm starting to think you don't _want_ to do this, Rodrick….."

"I said I'm sorry."

"I don't care if your sorry, Rodrick. If you weren't so darn attractive I'd set a curse on you right here and now," she sighed, "Come. Let's go to bed."


	5. The Announcement

Okay, so today is Monday and let me just say I am glad to be at school. What with all the craziness going on in the house, plus the surprise announcement this morning, I am ready for some nice, relaxing mathematical equations, intriguingly complex American history and good ole fashion bullying. I mean, I actually wouldn't mind some of these thoughts about Amedea being flushed out of my head, even if it means I have to have my face shoved in a toilet by a neckless gorilla in order to do it.

But anyway.

Another reason I'm glad to be at school is because of this new kid named Tony. Tony transferred into our school a week ago, claiming that the switch had something to do with Federal Agents, the FBI, and a certain Protection Program supervised by the president himself. Of course Lenwood Heath tried to give Tony trouble about it, but Tony just turned around and put him in a headlock the likes of which has never been seen before. I think even Dad was applauding on that historic day.

And also, I really like Tony because the first thing that Tony did on the first day of school was walk straight up to Mr. Huff (who was in a huff, as usual,) and said, "Just to warn you I am going to have two emotional break-downs, thirty-three detention referrals, twelve nurse visits, one hundred and fifty five bathroom breaks, six hundred and two water breaks, sixty six principal referrals (twelve for honorable mentions and thirty four for debatably sadistic behavior,) one hundred and twenty four letters home, one hundred and sixty six calls home, four missing dates, about a gazillion missed assignment, four threat notes, two love notes (one from my Mom, one from my auntie in prison,) sixty two pieces of gum from my mouth placed under twelve homeroom tables, respectively, twelve absences, ninety-nine 'incidents,' thirty-four helicopter raids in my name, and two excused tardies."

I remember the room went quite as Tony took a seat, "My name is Tony," said Tony, smiling at Mr. Huff, "And trust me, it's a whole lot better than the numbers last year."

I knew the day that Tony gave me a sixty Twisted Wizard cheat codes in exchange for the blade off of my pencil sharpener and homemade slingshot that I had mooched off of Rodrick that we'd be good friends.

Uh-oh, Better go. Third period bell is ringing. Time to set my plan in action.

11pm

"Yo, Heffley, did it work?" Tony bounced up to me, snapping gum. I slammed my locker.

"No," I said, "And I followed all of your instructions."

"Betcha didn't," Tony said, "Run them by me."

"Fine. I walked into third period Spanish, slammed my books on Mrs. Garcia's desk, looked her straight in the eye and said, "Just to warn you, you're going to have to send me to detention thirty-seven times-" and before I could even continue she wrote me a detention slip and said, 'Well, now it's thirty six.' She didn't even let me do my whole speech!"

Tony sighed and shook her head, "Greg, Greg, Greg, you're s'pose to start off with something light and then build up to the detention part, that way they won't get spooked. You know, in France they might call you _un idiote stupide_…"

"Well if in France _idiote stupide_ means incredibly handsome, smart, and gorgeous then I'm all for it!"

Did I mention Tony's a girl?

"Greg, Greg, Greg," she said, running a finger through her hair, "You'll never learn. So. You told me you had some big news. Something about that psychic chick at your house. Lay it on me, sweetstuff."

I stopped in my tracks, remembering the events from that morning.

_Super-cool-awesome-flashback. Shwaaaaaaaaaah._

"Greg! Greg! Wake up! It's time for school!"

"Honey, have you seen my FedEx box!"

"No, honey, I haven't! Rodrick! Wake up!"

"Mom! Just a few more minutes…"

"Oh, Rodrick dear, did you dream about Tricky spirits? You're all sweaty."

"Sure, we'll just say that I was dreaming…"

"Rodrick!"

"Sorry, Dad,"

"Goodness gracious! Greg! Greg! GET UP NOW!"

"I can't! Rowley's sleeping on my face!"

"Honey! We must save our son from asphyxiation!"

"HEY!

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,"

"Shut up, Rodrick!"

"GREG!"

"Okay, Mom. Come on, Rowley,"

"You, too, Rodrick! You'll be late for school."

"I think I may be impregnated with an alien baby."

"Bubby!"

"Wait, who made that last comment?"

"I'm gonna check my office for the papers from the FedEx box…."

"Ugh, do we always have to have oatmeal for breakfast?"

"Oatmeal is vey nutritious, Rodrick, have a piece of toast,"

"I like oatmeal, Mrs. Heffley,"

"Oh, thank you, dear. Have some orange juice. Boys, hurry up. You mustn't be late for school."

"GREG! WHAT IS THIS COFEE DOING ON MY PAPERS?"

"Why do you assume it's always me?"

"Mom, Greg just missed the bus,"

"Oh, darn, I guess you'll have to take him, dear."

"GREGORY!"

"FRANK!

"MOOOOOOM!"

"RODRICK!"

"What, fat hippo?"

"RODRICK!"

"Thank you for letting me move in with you guys."

We all froze in mid-argument. Mom stopped wrestling her car keys from Manny, a piece of toast fell from Rodrick's open mouth, Rowley looked confused, and Dad stopped mid-yell. I used the moment to quickly shovel oatmeal into Rowley's open backpack. Everyone turned to look at Amedea who standing at the top of the stairs, smiling. She walked down slowly, ignoring the silence.

"You're…moving in…with us?" Mom looked scared. Like, genuinely scared.

"That's...not…cool?" I said, scared. Like, genuinely scared.

"Wait…we…talked about this?" Rodrick looked scared. Like, genuinely scared.

"Honey…did you…know about this?" Dad looked sacred. Like, genuinely scared.

"That's super cool!" Rowley looked excited, like genuinely excited. We all turned and stared at him.

"Yes, thank you, Rowley," Amedea sat down at the kitchen table and began nibbling on a bit of toast as if everything was perfectly normal. "And since we are getting married I will need to stay here, indefinitely, or at least until the marriage is over and done with and Rodrick and I can get our own home. Hmmmmmm,"

The house went quieter than a grave, which was fitting, because everyone in the house except Amedea looked like they were about to drop dead.

_End flashback…_

Tony whistled, "So the psychic chick is moving in with you?"

"Yeah. And she and Rodrick are getting married, so I'll be seeing a lot more of her around."

Tony whistled again, "Wow. And what did you say her name was again?"

"I dunno," I said as we joined the lunch line, "Something with the word "butterfly" or "dragon" in it. She's all into "mystical" energies and "universe" and stuff. She tried to convert Rodrick the other night and…I don't wanna talk about it."

"Good. I don't wanna hear bout it. But she sounds like my sister. Always trying to convert people to her little beliefs. She goes by one of those weird, crazy names, too. Can never remember it. But, you know, I can't say I feel bad for Rodrick. He's a jerk."

Oh, I forgot to mention that Tony and Rodrick are like archenemies. If you wanna know why Rodrick isn't on MTV's Top 30 Teen Artists of the Century you can kind of blame it on her. And if you wanna know why Tony has a wicked freaky scar running across her right arm you should kinda forget you ever saw it. Trust me, it's for your own good.

"I agree, he is a jerk," I said as we each took a seat at the roughest lunch table in the cafeteria. I think Jerry Peterman actually growled at me, "But his girlfriend is jerkier. That's why I need to get her out of the house…for good."

"Even if it means putting off the wedding?" she asked me with a gleam in her eye. I thought a minute.

"Yes."

"Greg, Greg, Greg. You now what this means, don't you?"

"That I need to hatch a brilliant super awesome ninja plan which I am actually really good at hatching?"

"Yes. And you're gonna need my help. Now get away from this table before Jerry Peterman hangs you up by your ears from the top of the girls bathroom door again."


	6. The Second Plan

**I did it! I did it! I really, really did it! I wrote it, submit it, and really, really did it! So read it, enjoy it, and….whatever-else-you-want-to-add-to-this-song-it. Sorry it's late, school has started and I've had to resume my studies (unfortunately.) Anyway, enjoy!**

"Rodrick? Get off of the phone, please! I need to use it!"

"Wait a minute, Ward-MOM! YOU ALWAYS SACRILIGIEOUSFY MY PRIVILEGES! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GROW UP TO BE MAYOR OR SOMETHING IF YOU DON'T LET ME USE THE PHONE? THIS WILL AFFECT MY FUTURE, MOM, I SWEAR! Okay, hello? Ward? Yeah, dude, no, I just ate thirty-two waffles. Yeah, thirty-two! Wait….what? Wha-whaddaya mean that's not a record? It is, I totally checked. No, I totally checked. No? Aw, _man_."

I don't know if you've heard or not but Rodrick is trying to break a world record: the most waffles eaten in a day. He's planning on using the award money to pay for his and Amedea's wedding (although mom says it's totally not necessary-but, you know, it's Rodrick.)

"I'm gonna have to get some more waffles."

Pathetic, I know.

I didn't want to tell him that there are about a gazillion flaws in his plan, like, if he keeps eating so many waffles what are the kids in Machu Pichu going to eat? I mean, waffles are their staple crop. I learned it in geography. But right now I'm so mad at Rodrick that I'm not even talking to him. How could he bring someone so weird into our lives? I mean, this is not going to look good in the papers when I'm big and famous. I can imagine the interview now:

"_Good morning, America! This is Sandy McBrandy and I am honored to be interviewing the charismatic, the intelligent, the dastardly good-looking, (and did I mention dastardly good-looking?) Greg Heffley! Hullo, Greg! So tell me, is it true that you're related to Amedea Arabella Bonfilia Cosima Donna Gabriella Orabella?"_

"_Uh, no comment. But I am-"_

"_Interesting! And is it true that she tried to convert you and your brother into 'devoted universees' only to end up-"_

"_Hey! I didn't know what was going on that night and-hey! What are you writing? Stop! I didn't say anything important. Did you know that in swimming practice I once-"_

"_Is it true that your aura is the color blue?"_

"_Wha-"_

"_HELLO EVERYONE!" Camera jumps to a crazy girl with multi-colored dresses bursting in to the studio stage._

"_Amedea!" Sandy McBrandy squeals, "Do you have anything that you'd like to say to the audience?"_

"_I see that you are all under the power and the influence of the universe, and I thank you for that." The girl starts clapping her hands and whirling around like a gypsy. Camera pans to a big jerk walking in._

"_Hi, Greg! I'm here to ruin your life!"  
>"Ooh, Greg, is this your brother?" Sandy McBrandy motions for the camera to zoom in on Amedea grabbing Rodrick by the hand and twirling him around. She plants a big, wet kiss on his cheek that is magnified on every TV screen across America.<em>

"_No, wait, Sandy, you don't understand. This is supposed to be about me! This is supposed to be _my_ show! Hey-where are you going? They're not the charismatic, intelligent, dastardly good-looking ones here, I am! Hey wait! No! NOOOOOOOOOO!"_

"Greg, for goodness sakes, stop screaming! Rodrick! I need to use the phone, now!"

"Just a minute, mom. No, dude, how about you buy the syrup and I'll buy the waffles. No…wha…what are you saying?…are you joking?….…no, you cannot put whipped cream on my wife-to-be, what are you even talking about?"

I almost gagged all over my algebra book (which would have probably gotten me a better grade than an un-tarnished homework.) But wife-to-be? Seriously? I couldn't help imagining Amedea walking down the aisle in a black wedding dress made out of cobwebs and bat wings and Rodrick employing his band _Loded Diper _to play the music. Blegh.

"Rodrick! I need to call Mr. and Mrs. Bullford!"

"WHAT?"

All of the males in the house rushed down the stairs and surrounded mom in the kitchen, including Dad who was supposed to be at work. "Yes," Mom smiled at us and picked up the discarded phone, "They're coming over tonight. They want to meet your fiancé, Rodrick. Honey, aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Uh….j-buh…..uhm, what are we talking about?" Dad hurriedly hid a Civil War action figure behind his back. Mom glared at him.

Okay, there are two things that you need to know right now before we continue: a.) if I hear the word _fiancé_ one more time I'm calling Tony and asking her to send the FBI in and B.) the Bullfords spell trouble. Oh sure, Sally and Winston Bullford are fine but it's their son, Milly, who really bothers me. See, Milly is about five foot three and weighs about 600 pounds. He speaks only speaks one language and that is the language of "Grab and Take." Every time he comes over about fifty percent of my things end up in his grubby hands. When I try to tell mom her face gets all stiff and she's like, "Milly is your cousin. It is good that you share with him," in a really high-pitched voice. But I know that about fifty percent of her things have gone missing, too (and by missing I mean: gone from her purse and mysteriously turn up broken in the Bullford's driveway. You do the math.)

Amedea, who had been staying at our house for the last few days and had been driving me crazy, came downstairs towel drying here hair. "Oh, hello, sweetheart," she swept by and gave Rodrick a kiss, who looked as if the toll of eating thirty-two waffles had suddenly just hit him. "Did I hear that family members were stopping by?" she asked.

"Yes, dear. Mr. and Mrs. Bullford and their son, Milly."

"Oh, lovely," she said, "I should go and prep. It would be nice if I could get my aura ready, too, but, you know, there's no shampoo for _that_." With a giggle she rushed back up the stairs and slammed the bathroom door.

"I'm gonna go buy some more waffles," Rodrick said as he rushed out of the door, his face turning green.

"Well, at least-"

"Gotowork," Mom said to Dad in her _I'm-about-to-murder-someone_ voice as she subconsciously twirled a bread knife.

Okay. It's time to call the FBI. Seriously.


End file.
